When the Girl made her way back to the Warehouse, the Garbage Woman welcomed her return with, “How was your trip?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“That bad, huh?”
The Girl collapsed on the closest soft surface, which still had plenty of stuff piled up on it. It didn’t matter - she wouldn’t feel comfortable, no matter what position she took anyways. She didn’t want to talk about what just happened. After unsuccessfully trying to find her saviour or getting additional help, the Girl felt miserable. All of her attempts had ended in failure, her investigation had gotten nowhere, and she was almost assaulted. After all that, she wasn’t sure if she would be able to have the strength to ever go out again. The more she tried to comprehend the City, the less she understood its surroundings.
Sensing her discomfort, the Garbage Woman sauntered over and brought out an envelope from her pocket. “If it makes you feel any better, I got you your pay.”
The Girl was in such a state that it took some time for her to comprehend the words spoken. After several minutes in a daze, she blinked her unfocused eyes open. “You did that for me?”
“You weren’t around, and they would’ve withheld it in your absence, so I offered to hand it over to you. It was the least I could do.”
The Girl couldn’t believe her luck. She was also amazed at the Garbage Woman’s ethics. If it were her, she wouldn’t have been able to resist temptation. She eagerly ripped the edge of the envelope open, and was dismayed by the contents. She half wished the Garbage Woman had stolen from her. Even with her low expectations, it was still less than she expected. “Is this all?”
“After expenses, labor, time off, and eating the profits, that’s what’s left. At least you’re getting paid more than I am.”
“Oh now, that can’t be right. How can you afford all this?” she asked, sweeping her arm across the room full of collected junk, and by extension, the warehouses and all that was kept within them.
“Why do you think I work three jobs? Just to make ends meet? What little extra I have left over, I send to my family who live far away from here. Or so I’m told. I have no way of knowing if they’re still receiving my funds, or are still alive. I have to believe that I’m contributing for their sake. The truth would be too painful otherwise.”
“Why do you put up with it??”
“It’s the only time I can get any rest.”
“These conditions are unfavorable. We should complain - ”
“There’s only a limited amount of Rights to go around! If we start giving it to others who clearly don’t deserve it, there’ll be none left for the rest of us! If anything, you should be thanking them for giving you the opportunity to work for them! I know I do.”
The Girl was stunned. In all the time she’d been with the Garbage Woman, the Girl had never once heard her raise her voice. Even when she accidentally broke something or threw out a personal item of hers, she simply took it in stride. But now, she was echoing sentiments heard elsewhere. At that moment, the Girl knew that if at any point during her low ebb in her life that she began to believe and live by those words, she’d need to get out of there - Fast.
But in her current predicament, there seemed to be little to no hope of finding any way out, which only served to discourage her further. She couldn’t complain to any of the co-workers, lest she be outed as a troublemaker. The most pressing issue of her current predicament, was dealing with the parasite fetus currently dwelling in her belly. Her first thought was that the Garbage Woman might pick the baby up as a novelty, but she seemed more interested in the state of inanimate objects than living things. (Even if her objects had the trait of being unnervingly alive.)
As the days and weeks passed, the Girl felt increasingly dispirited with every passing moment. Just living on a daily basis with a relentless unchanging schedule that kept pressing down on her made her lose her lust for life.
In addition, her back was starting to hurt from constantly leaning over and the added weight to her front. She wanted to get out of this situation at all costs.
In a fit of desperation while accepting the menus, she lost her balance and fell in front of the Patron in a state of exhaustion. After being helped back up, she confessed she was having trouble staying afloat, having little motivating herself to keep going.
The Patron regarded her coolly, before reaching into his pocket. “I don’t usually do this, but here’s a product that’s been making rounds lately.”, he said, holding a small packet up.
“What is it?”
“It’s an experimental drug called Bliss. Aptly named, because whoever takes a single dose of it feels nothing but bliss. The first sample is free. After that, you’ll have to start paying.”
As soon as the Girl snatched it away from him, the Patron allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction. All along, he had been grooming the Girl for this. When she was handing out flyers for the Café, she was subconsciously learning which places were most likely to accept them, and which ones to avoid. There were three different kinds of people who accepted the menus.
1. Curious potential eaters who would either keep the Café in mind, before throwing it away later.
2. People who were so desperate for food that they were reduced to eating the delicious-looking items offered on the menu, even though their nutritional value wasn’t more than paper and ink.
3. Junkies who wanted to know the latest drugs available for sale.
There was coded language hidden in the menu that would go unnoticed by a majority of customers, but there was a select service who would know what the unusual food options actually meant. The places that rejected the flyers wanted nothing to do with the Café, while the ones that accepted them knew it was coded language for new supplies. It was just a matter of figuring out which locations wanted more flyers.
The Patron had it all figured out. By implementing a risk/reward system where the Girl constantly had her rewards denied her, she would be especially receptive to any gifts thrown her direction. By softening her up, he was making her get used to thoughts that she would have once thought unacceptable.
Naturally, the Girl knew none of this.
When it comes to avoiding the truth, escapism through drugs is a handy route, but you have to know how to get access those illegal substances in the first place. Otherwise, your only source for party favors can come through second-hand parties, who are just as likely to betray you as they are to reward you. And first-time customers were likely to return to the first supplier for repeat business.
When the Patron looked around, the Girl was gone.
Right now, the Girl frequented a den that accepted the Café’s menus where consumption of illicit products was extremely common and done out in the open. She stood amidst the comatose lingering bodies and cried out,
“How much would you be willing to pay for this sample of Bliss?”
However, the Girl was so ignorant about drug culture that she figured she could hock her wares, rather than use it herself.
At first, the layabouts expressed mild interest, but they sniffed their ravaged nostrils up at the drug.
“That’s the free sample.”
“Lousy quality.”
“I’ve had better paint thinner.”
“Hey, they’re serving ‘Grilled Cheese’ today!”
“Save up for that instead.”
The connoisseurs were able to instantly suss out that this offering was hardly enough to satisfy their cravings, having already moved on to the stronger stuff.
“Yes, but aren’t you desperate enough to be doing anything for another hit?”, she asked, not quite giving up yet.
“We’re still not completely addicted yet.”
“Come back when we’re hurting.”
“Bring some of that ‘Grilled Cheese’, baby!”
She walked away dejected, until she thought of someone who could really benefit from this, and made her way towards the Bloodlight District.
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